He certainly wasn’t built for the dad life. He’d never planned on kids—never even liked the snotty, drooling, sticky little things—but things happen. You were more than just some girl he’d been seeing. Somehow, you’d managed to mellow him out a little bit.

His waking emotion each morning is no longer anger, indifference or annoyance—it’s tranquil. Calm. Happiness, as he holds you in his arms. When you’d told him of your pregnancy, he’ll admit, something in him—the cowardly, selfish part of him, was ready to run.

However, he didn’t. He stayed—for you, and for your baby, a little boy he named Megumi. Blessings. Despite his inexperience and complete lack of paternal instinct, he quite likes the little family you’ve created. He especially likes watching you dote on your son.

“He’ll be fine.” He tells you with a smirk, holding Megumi upside down by his ankle as you glare disapprovingly at him. “Kid loves it, see? Tell Mommy how much fun you’re havin’.” He says, dropping Megumi for a split second before catching him again, eliciting a flurry of giggles from the little boy.